Broken
by YugiGirl06
Summary: A drabble on Sasuke's thoughts in chapters 483/484


Broken

Warning: Spoilers for chapter 483 and onward. If you have not read that far, do not ask me any questions about what happens, because I will refuse to answer them.

Disclaimer: Of course I'm not Kishimoto. If I was Kishimoto, 1) The pairing wars would never come into existence, and 2) Sakura would kick ass more often.

He had not meant to do it.

He knew she was waiting for an interaction as soon as Danzou held Karin hostage; as soon as he struck the redhead through with electricity. He heard her small gasp, his ears trained to hear the minutest of sounds. He could feel her energy-every pore of hers screamed out to him with their purpose.

Danzou's body fell to the ground with an unceremonious thud. His dark deed was finished, the team member of his new formation gasping for breath as he waited. Glazed red eyes watched his form, pleading for an apology of some kind, offering forgiveness. She was a sacrifice; he did not need her petty forgiveness, as he would not offer an apology.

_She _stepped out of the underbrush, rosette hair framing her face, lighting her emerald eyes with a small fire in its shadow. She walked with the determination he himself had walked with when preparing to face his brother. It was amusing and sickening to watch her approach like that; to approach with such a purpose.

She gave no show of weapons besides a lonely kunai, only a quick _inquiry, demand_ to join him in his plight for vengeance. His cold exterior glared, and sternly responded that she would have to destroy a life on the brink to join his forces. His interior mused in admiration-she wholeheartedly believed she would be enough to dispose of him. This young woman, once a girl completely infatuated with him, wished him dead.

He wondered what could drive her to that point. He could see it in her faltering countenance; it wasn't a choice she had easily made. As he watched her visibly struggle with the undertaking she was given, foreign hatred laced through him, chilling his veins. This intensity could only be brought out by her; she pushed all of his buttons without even knowing.

His body acted on instinct. One part of his mind screamed at him that it wasn't right, his intentions were not his own. Another drove him to the task, forming the chakra necessary to perform the deed. Crimson eyes locked on to his target point, the strike imminent.

That _useless_ sacrifice alerted his former teammate to his intentions. She avoided his deadly assault, only to have his vital target point taken into his singlehanded grasp after he had taken care of their rash teacher. Freezing hatred kept his hand firm, his objective seemingly clear. His façade was resolute.

Somewhere inside of him, his mind was screaming for her release. His rational thoughts ran through his head, trying to counter his frigid aspect. They demanded her freedom, hoping she would aid them by fighting back; by forcing him to stop. Memories flooded into his mind with little resistance.

_He was waking up in Nami no Kuni to her voice. Her tears littered his face, and he groggily tells her he cannot hold her weight on him._

_ Her expression was somber. He knew, somehow, she felt useless. He knew he wanted to change that, just to see her smile._

_ Orochimaru found them, capturing them in their fear. He knew he needed to find a way to release himself from the hold of that terrible man's genjutsu. Blood gushed out of his leg where he stabbed himself to break the hold. His eyes bled to crimson, jumping to the side to take her into his arms and break her from the disturbing visions. _

_ Orochimaru had latched on to him, injecting pain that slipped through his body like the venom of a snake. It arrested his systems and left him helpless. She kept him steady-kept him _grounded_-through the searing agony._

_ He awakened to a fight. She was covered from head to toe in bruises, and her hair was cut to shoulder length. Intense anger coursed through him, seeing her like that. No one would ever harm her again, not if he could help it._

_ He had done too much. The curse was overtaking him, weakening him in the midst of battle. She stood firm in front of him, her heel lightly touching his shoulder for an instant and was gone in the next as she was snatched up by the sand. Her body was limp, hanging in the canopy. He cursed himself for letting someone hurt her again. _

_ He woke from his coma. As soon as he sat up in his hospital bed, her arms were around his neck. Her body warmed his chilled form as he looked at her. His emotions were clearly displayed on his face-his gratitude for her constant vigilance was open to the world to see. _

_ She ran in front of them; the two fated foes. She ran to them blindly, her tears crashing to the cement. His mind urged him to stop, but gravity was against him. Anger and confusion flashed across his face in the same instant-why would she foolishly interfere?_

_ The night he left was clear. He wished for more cover, hoping he could blend in with the shadows. He should have known, no matter how the darkness clung to him, she would find him. He tried to push her away-to push her out of his heart-but he failed. She loved him, truly loved him; his understanding increased with every tear that slipped down her face. He couldn't let her be his-he didn't deserve her. He appeared behind her, and simply thanked her for loving him (as that was all he could do). He knocked her out, and left her on that bench (as that was all he could do). _

_ They met again. She ran out, unleashing her frustration on his replacement. Her name tasted sweet to his tongue, saying it as he once had. Slowly, she turned to face him, shock written across her face. His rival came next, and he alighted down in front of that buffoon, hoping to extinguish any hopes of his return. He slipped out his kusanagi, and she snapped out of her astonishment to prepare for battle. She charged chakra into her fist, ready to ram him through. He waited for her to approach just to see what she would do, but the mission leader interfered. After he had left them hopeless, he disappeared with the old snake. _

His grip slackened as the recollections flowed through his mind like a raging river. His rival swiped her from him before she touched the ground, her surprise apparent on her features. Did she realize he was slipping-_into insanity_-as recognition dawned on him?

It was three against one.

He was vaguely aware of the conversation he was having with his rival. The words rolled out without any processes of thought as he repeatedly told that _dobe _why what he felt would never be understood. He insisted all ties with Team Seven were broken.

The talking is done; He moves in for the kill. Instinct drives him, rational thought abandoned at the wayside to focus on the fight. Attacks clash together, and he is thrown back, his fall cushioned by that monstrous man. _That man_, the only blood relation he has left in this world, advises him to yield. He waits for his rival's reply to a question he cared little for, and disappears once again.


End file.
